“Speshul Ajint Octavian Smift”

Musashi Sez:

This yer littrbox warnin. Anothr long blog. Sorree.

Mom Says:

Agent Octavian received his Catnip Royale (stirrd, not shaykin) with the aplomb that Jimbond had studied long to achieve, but the drinking of it was another matter. The waiter had conveniently included a straw, but Octavian had nowhere near the automatic resistance to alcohol that Jimbond had built up over many years. So Octavian wisely drank only in very small sips. Gatto watched him closely.

“What? Yu not lik yor drink?” murmured the strange cat.

Octavian huffed. “This a Islamic contree. I can’t egzaklee get drungk heer, now kin I?”

The dog’s eyes opened and blinked. He said something in Spanish, and Gatto answered him in English. “This eez ourrr nu frrend, I’m soree, I deed not catch yorr naym, Senor….”

Octavian sat up straight and curled his tail over his front feet. “Smift. Octavian Smift. At yer servis.”

The dog said, “Smeeth? Inglés? Americano?”

Octavian said, “Yes, I am. So I unnerstan that yu ar consernd that we may not hav mutch tim to figgr out whut yer ‘Northern Contact’ is sayin about…the werld an its leedrz… How kin I halp?”

There followed a muttered dialogue between the dog and his friend, but Octavian dare not turn on his LingwaTron 9001K. However, his gut instinct told him that they were speaking in some tough-guy dialect anyway, which his LT wouldn’t even begin to translate correctly. What had Jimbond said about moments like this? “When in doubt, sip your drink very slowly and pretend to be supremely confident.”

Well, thought Octavian, cats are very good at that.

Musashi Sez:

Is verree tru. In Merika, they sez, “Fayk it til yu mayk it.” Also, is verree halpfl to noe that the peeples yu’r talkin to can’t yooz gunz an lik that. (Not havin thumz an all.) I’m jus sayin.

Mom Continues as if No One Had Interrupted:

The dog rose from his side of the table, and he was bigger and heavier than Agent Octavian, and when he smiled, his teeth were considerably longer and somewhat… pointier. Octavian flicked his tail nervously, ready to jump, but kept himself from trembling by a tremendous act of self-control.

“Yeah?” he said to the dog. “Watchu want?”

And the dog laughed. Octavian nearly leaped away after all, but part of his brain told him to stay, so he sank his claws into the cloth of the couch.

Perro said, “Yu arr OK, littul kitteee. I likes yuu. Yu has the cajones.”

“Um, what that?”

Gatto said, “Ees lik catnip mousseez, egsept they roll around thee florr. Ees conseedrd a verreeee guuud thin wher we com from.”

“Um. Oh. Grayt! So….?”

Perro barked imperiously at Gatto, who sighed and said, “Yu meet us on the west syd of the prizn tomorro, yes? Jus befor dawn. Then we see whut we see, eh?”

Octavian sipped deeply from his drink and blinked rapidly. When he had recovered, he said, “Jus befor dawn. Urf, urf. Yah. OK!” And he leaped down from his couch and trotted out the door to Ibrahim.